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Page 19
"Yes, in a moment," Ian gasped, stiffening as Alinor directed Joanna to spread the lips of a pus-filled sore so she could clean it thoroughly.
"Adam, be still!" Alinor snapped.
"But Mother Oh, Mother, may we sit at the high table for dinner? May we?" the irrepressible Adam demanded, jiggling up and down.
"May we, Mother?" Joanna echoed, unwisely looking up from her task so that a finger slipped and Ian jerked and groaned.
"Joanna, you careless girl! Adam, stand still! Sooner than reward you both, I will send you dinnerless to bed."
"Alinor," Ian said sharply, "do not punish them the first day I am here. They are excited. If you will be quiet, Adam, I will tell you at dinner."
"I am sorry, Ian," Joanna whispered.
"Never mind, love," he soothed, "it is nothing. Just do as your mother tells you. Do not be frightened. I will not die for a prick."
"One more sound from either of you and all Ian's pleading on your behalf will be naught. If I must speak to either of you again, I will make good my first threat and add a whipping to your dinnerless state," Alinor warned.
With her helpers properly subdued, Alinor finished her work quickly. Over the medicinal creams she spread a thin layer of grease to prevent the bandages from sticking to the sores, told Adam to pack the pots carefully and take them away, and instructed Joanna in wrapping Ian firmly but not tightly in soft, old linen. Then she sent the girl away also. Ian started to get out of the bed.
"For Mary's sake," Alinor exclaimed irritably, "lie down and sleep until dinner. If you show your face, those little devils will be at you."
"I do not mind," Ian said pacifically, then smiled. "It pleases me that they love me."

 
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